


paradise spread out with a butter knife

by worry



Category: Ava's Demon
Genre: Other, welcome to I Am The Only Person Who Cares About This Ship hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-15 08:15:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10553052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worry/pseuds/worry
Summary: "Crush" is a word that implies weakness, and Prudith Loone isnotweak.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this ship haunts me

It’s not a crush.

 

Prudith is Above crushes; they take up too much of your time, crawl in and infect your mind. “Crushes” are just sick little things that distract you from the _truly important_ things, such as Studying and Working and everything that keeps her mind busy so she Does Not Think About Strategos Six, Ever. "Crush" is a word that implies weakness, and Prudith Loone is _not_ weak. She isn't. One day she will be looking down on everyone beneath her, every sad, sorry soul, from Paradise, and she'll get there fighting with her teeth and fingernails because _Prudith Loone is not weak_ . Weakness is failure, and failures don't get into Paradise. Failures get - discarded, and failures certainly are not allowed to spend time with TITAN's second in command.  
  
So: she's not weak, never has been. In school she excelled despite most of her classmates being utterly stupid and misguided, and in work she is doing well, Six even told her they're proud of her achievements, with the fondest look that Six's slick face is capable of forming, face like something bright-holy in the sky  & skin that became more and more pure with every second that passed. She is _getting there_ , and she's destined for wonderful things, a position with the Elite followers. Something even _greater_ , maybe. Maybe. She's getting there. She will reach it soon-- the end, that is, of her duties. Getting into Paradise at nineteen is unheard of. She will break it, cut the disbelief into tiny tiny pieces, and Rise.

 

* * *

 

She doesn’t get to see Six much. It makes sense; being so close to TITAN, they have more imortant business than spending time with someone so - well. Irrelevant, in their eyes. It’s almost disgusting, it’s almost _distracting:_ Prudith does not mind, usually, when people look down on her (she’s destined for greater things, it’s her destiny) ( _rise)_ (one day she will be watching the heathens from Paradise and---), but when she _does_ see Six, those very rare occasions like delicate luxuries, everything becomes sensitive. _Sensitive._ Sensitivity is also disgusting, like being skin-stripped.

 

It’s not a crush. Prudith is Above crushes.

 

Six is:

 

  * Perfect. In every way. Their body was exquisitely designed; it’s quite a beautiful creation, somehow completely unlike anything Prudith has ever seen. They (not just their body, see, their _essence_ ) can withstand almost everything that would harm a “normal follower”. They were created to be perfect and _oh,_ they are. They _are._
  * Actually quite hilarious. They don’t look it; their outward appearance, that perfect body, seems serious. Cold stone. Once you get to know them, however, the illusion tarnishes, and then they’re making you laugh with their echo-voice and touching you on the back and _then then then:_ everything you’ve ever thought transforms into the melted-down armor of You. Something about them makes you just - _fall._ Six always knows exactly what to say. It’s charming. It’s _charming._
  * (Prudith is Above crushes.)
  * Warm.
  * Warm.
  * __WARM.__
  * They don’t seem warm, either. It’s their _essence._ Six’s essence is fire-warm, consuming, like a drop of Paradise’s waters has been shot right into their heart.



 

 

 

But she, as always, is Above things like this.

 

* * *

 

 

"Nice to see you again, Prudith,” they say, walking by her; this is one of those Rare Occasions where they’re together, when Six and the rest of those at Prudith's rank have regrouped back at TITAN's headquarters. She never though much about it until recently: why, exactly, _does_ Six spend so much time instructing Prudith's caliber? They are certainly a special, well-picked set of individuals, followers who are (mostly) Worthy, but they are also below what Prudith imagines Six's interests are. Is it an instruction from TITAN? Is it an assigned job? Six is very charismatic, knows how to charm everyone in a room. That's their best quality, that's what makes them so _interesting_ ; everyone will fall for them, eventually, and rightfully so. Who wouldn't like them? She will have _words_ with anyone who dares to even think about opposing them, and Prudith Loone is _very_ good at having words.

  
  
"Is everyone ready? Today we're going to plan an event that will be - groundbreaking." They laugh, a beautiful grate. "In many ways."

 

She is the only one who laughs in response; everyone else has their head down, staring at the cold blue of the meeting table. She's just staring at Six, completely comfortable- well. On second thought: maybe they aren't on her caliber. Fear and intimidation are things that she is not capable of feeling.

 

And then Six sits _next_ to her.

 

There's no reason for it; they should be standing near the presentation board giving the _presentation_ , or at the end of the table asking questions, or - anything that isn't sitting by Prudith. It’s not a bad feeling, just _incredibly_ uncomfortable. They’re so close—

 

“Friends, I’m sure you’re all well aware of the showcase coming up in a few months.”

 

There’s a cacophonus rasp of _yes_ from everyone else in the room. Prudith, however, only gives a slight nod and folds her hands in her lap, tells her mind to focus on everything that isn’t Six’s closeness. Think about family. The followers are her family. Think about success. This is the only path to success. The only path to success is in the strange blue beauty of Strategos Six. Of fucking _course._

 

“Good, then,” Six says. “I knew you would be. This time we’re featuring something very, very different.”

 

“Oh, yeah? How different?” Prudith blurts, absent-minded, and then feels her body rip apart, burn. She’s never supposed to speak at these meetings.

 

“I’m glad you asked,” they tell her. “Well. Every one of you has dreamed about being promoted to an elite status in our wonderful army at some point, hm? Fantasized about it? Planned your life around the idea that one day you’ll be working with the best of the best?”

 

Another chorus of yes.

 

“Don’t worry, you’ll get there soon enough.”

 

They set a pile of papers down, gently, _gently_ , on the table. "Go on," they instruct, "pass them around. This is vital information about the showcase, so study it carefully."

 

She grabs one, hands shaking.

 

THE GATE TO PARADISE, it says, WILL TRANSFORM ONE LUCKY FOLLOWER IN THE AUDIENCE INTO ONE OF US. THE MACHINE HAS BEEN IN PROGRESS FOR MONTHS AND HAS BEEN EDITED AND REDESIGNED INTO ABSOLUTE PERFECTION.

 

There are a few blueprints below the text, a few technical descriptions of exactly what makes the machine work. The inner workings of it, the parts that you don't see. It's interesting; everyone has parts that are hidden, everyone has something to hide in the depths of themselves, but neither Six nor Prudith are lowly enough to hide. A match made in Paradise, surely, if this were anything more than purely professional interest.

  
  
“I want you all to take these home. We’ll meet again next week and I expect different ideas about how to better the event from _all_ of you.”

 

Everyone acknowledges them with a head-bow -- it’s _not_ a nod, this time, because nods are too informal and you have to be _decent_ in a situation like this. Come on. What will they _do_ to their loyal followers? There’s a _line,_ undoubtedly, but they are neutral unless you cross it. Prudith knows Six’s habits very well.

 

“Oh,” they say, and - _TITAN bless -_ put their arm (again: gently) around her. “One more thing. Prudith here will be my personal advisor from now on. Ask her any questions you have. Thank you all for coming, you’re dismissed.”

 

Someone at the very back of the room sighs, loudly. Slams their hands on the table. “I’m sorry, but _how_ is Prudith qualified for that position?”

 

Yes. She had been wondering that, too, but it was quickly disregarded when Six squeezed her tighter. _Tighter_ . It’s nothing like the way Six touched her in her many dreams. It’s tearing her body apart with one simple brush; she hasn’t received affection (this _isn’t_ affection, but--) in a very long time. Something like hunger.

 

“You have the exact same qualifications as her, and everyone else in this room. Don’t forget that.” Six looks predatory now, some gruesome animal. It’s quite attractive. She’d do anything for them now. She would always do anything for them--you _have_ to be obedient in this line of work--but now she soars. “ _Dismissed._ ”

 

“Yeah, so if we’re all the same in your eyes, why’s _she_ so special?” Someone else, now. Oh. This is interesting. Prudith feels so _warm._

 

“I said dismissed. If you don’t leave now there will be consequences.”

 

They still have one arm around her, the other placed calmly in their lap. Prudith is in Paradise.

* * *

 

 

“Come with me.”

 

They’re gesturing for her to follow into a (very elegant, _extremely elegant_ ) transport ship, and - well, Prudith follows, because what else are you supposed to do when a beautiful, _powerful_ person invites you into their ship? Run? Hide? Stop functioning because _you’re completely above “crushes” and “feelings” but this is an opportunity that you’ve dreamed about for years, for many reasons (finally getting your abilities properly recognized) (but it’s more than professional) (it’s m o r e) (but.)_

 

What _else_ are you supposed to do? Anyone else in this situation would be terrified. But those people are not Prudith Loone, and Prudith Loone is _never_ terrified.

 

She sits down next to them in the very back of the ship; it’s designed exactly like the interior of a limousine. The best luxuries for the best follower. It’s fitting. They _deserve_ this, of course.

 

“You know, um…”

 

She pauses, looks down at her feet. Everything in her is going to burst, any moment now, Prudith all over the walls of the ship, Prudith all over Six, not-feelings just too much to handle. That would mean failure, on second thought, _banish the thought,_ so she pulls herself together, pulls the armor coat tight around her shoulders. There’s no room for failures in Paradise.

 

“Sorry, what was that?”

 

She sighs. “Um, with all due respect, I think they had a point. Why _me_?”

 

“Okay,” they say, and Prudith imagines them smiling, “first, please don’t address me like that.”

 

…

 

“Like what?”

 

“‘With all due respect.’”

 

“Well, what’s wrong with that?”

 

Six laughs. “Prudith, I picked you because of your personality. Your - ah - _spunk._ Your nerve. We both know that keeping this a strictly _formal_ relationship will get us nowhere.”

 

She coughs. “Thanks. So… what _kind_ of relationship is this gonna be, then? If it’s not strictly formal.”

 

“Well, that’s up to you.”

 

To rewind, because everything in Prudith’s brain is singing a delusional taunt of _this isn’t happening, there’s something wrong with you:_ Strategos Six, the _second in command_ of all followers _,_ is sitting next to her, frighten-alone, in a polished spaceship.

 

Strategos Six, who picked her ( _her_ , Prudith, Prudith Loone, who is deserving) out of the many others in the presentation, out of everyone she knows, because of her nerve. Because maybe she's special, because maybe they find her interesting (no one has ever thought she was interesting), because maybe they're getting desperate or feeling desperate and doing the right thing, the thing that will make them both Rise.

  
  
What kind of relationship does she want it to be? The answer, of course, should be obvious: she _wants_ them, wants Paradise, and Six will take her there, in every way.

 

"We'll have to see what happens, I guess."

 

Their eyebrows raise. "Good girl."

 

_Good girl._

 

Correction: she has always been in Paradise.

 

"Now," Six says, completely as if everything is normal and they hadn't just made Prudith fall fall fall, "I bet you're wondering what a job like this involves, hm?"

 

"Yeah, a little bit."

 

"Not to worry. It's quite simple; you'll be staying with me until—"

 

"Hold on, I'm staying with you? What?"

 

"Yes, I've already made the arrangements. I stay on this planet sometimes, but only on very rare occasions, a few hours away from here... you're fine with that, I assume?"

 

"Oh, yeah!" she laughs, heart hammering like a beat in her chest. "C—Completely fine!"

 

"Good. Anyways, this is more than just an _assignment,_ you know. Basically, you’ll be giving me your opinion on very crucial things, and I’ve read that you’re very good at making your opinions heard.”

 

Her entire body is on fire. “I sure am. At least, I like to think I am.”

 

“I expect great things of you, and I have faith that you will live up to my expectations. You’re very special.”

 

She smiles. Six is silent for the rest of the ride, but their eyes never leave Prudith’s body.

**Author's Note:**

> I DONT KNOW if i should continue this, i really just wanted it Published, so tell me what u think i should do? yeah thanks for reading!♥


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